人會因為什麼原因而轉變??? 人.都會改變... 只是變好或變壞...
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What It Means To Love A Girl Who Has Lived Through Trauma
A girl who has lived through trauma has lived through a situation where her body, her mind, her self was not her own. Where she felt disjointed, ripped from her self, safety, and sanity. It was a moment, an experience, a something where her trust was smashed, h er worth was gone and all there was was pain. A girl who has lived through trauma is the girl who was pushed into the deep end of the pool when she didn’t know how to swim, but somehow found her way to the ledge anyway. She walked through a forest fire and didn’t succumb to the smoke, but dealt with the burns and made it out in spite of the flames. She found herself in free fall but refused to break upon impact. She survived. She did. But the thing about trauma, is that even when it is over it never really goes away. And sometimes trauma is loud. Sometimes it’s the monster banging at the windows and screaming gutturally and demonically inside of nightmares. It’s nails on a chal...
Another year is passing thur, living in a time where many of us are obsess and worry about the future. Elbowing and racing each other to see who can get there better and faster. Sometimes without even asking ourselves if "this is the pathway that i'm heading towards" but no matter what turns out to be . .. .. i am thankful for the nights that turned into mornings, lungs that turned healthy, friends that turned into foe, strangers that turned into friends, dreams that turned into reality, “For last year’s words belong to last year’s language And next year’s words await another voice.” ― T.S. Eliot Cheers to 2017 =)
how much do we remember from the songs that we heard? how much do we remember from the people that we've hurt? how much do we remember from the hands that we held? and how much from the beliefs we upheld? how much do we remember from the secrets that we told? how much do we remember from the heroes we extolled? how much do we remember from the letters that we wrote? and how much from the poems we learnt by rote? how much will we remember from the things now we decry? and how much from the news that make us cry? sometimes i just can't remember all the things we did together the wind, the dust, the mornings will remain but they're never gonna be the same again and my life could never be the same again
